Going To Hell
by karma-raudenfeld
Summary: Karma bites back a gasp. She's jealous. She's jealous of Reagan; of Amy. She's jealous of Reagan and Amy together.


**So the Mid-season trailer gave me so many feelings and I couldn't get this out of my head. Very short one-shot.**

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><p>They were sleeping together.<p>

Or at least, they had.

Karma doesn't know how she can tell, but it's the first thought that comes to her mind when she walks in the room. The evidence is screaming at her, but that's ridiculous because there isn't any evidence of that to begin with.

She inclines her head slightly, tuning out whatever Liam – or was it Theo who was speaking? She can't remember – as she examines the both of them.

Maybe, maybe she thinks (she knows, dammit, she knows) that they're sleeping together because of the discrete, sideways glances Amy keeps throwing at Reagan whenever her name comes up in the conversation. She's looking at her with a strange, protective light in her eyes; she _cares_ about her. Or maybe it's the way Reagan's mouth twitched upwards when she answered Amy's question, her voice a honeyed, lazy, teasing drawl. Or maybe, it's even the way Amy put her hand on Reagan's knee when she sat down next to her, and Karma's almost positive she let it linger there for a beat or two longer than necessary. It's maybe even the way Reagan leans her body almost imperceptibly closer to Amy's when she's speaking, and there's a soft, appreciative glow in her eyes, or the way she meets her gaze boldly, and her mouth just inches a little higher. To an untrained eye, there's barely even a change, but Karma's heart drops because her eye isn't untrained, and she'd bet her life any day that that inch was the Amy equivalent to a smile.

And then her stomach knots itself, because only a few weeks ago, the only one who was able to make Amy smile was her and, lately, she's been the cause of more frowns than all the smiles she's put on her face combined.

Karma bites her lip and fights the urge to snarl at Reagan when she sees this one lean over to whisper in Amy's ear, and if there was a doubt in her mind before, it's sure gone now because everyone's looking at them in that incredulous, bewilderedly amused way; like they can't believe that Amy and Reagan have (_are_) sleeping together.

She stands up suddenly, feeling disgusted. "Sorry, I need to go to the bathroom," she murmurs and exits the living room without a backward glance, too scared to look back and find something she really doesn't want to see.

And it frustrates her to no end, because she's not supposed to be affected by the fact that Amy and Reagan are sleeping together but she is. And she's not supposed to care that Amy may be starting to move on from her but she does. She looks at herself in the mirror and tries to breathe, but damn it there are freaking tears stinging her eyes, and there's a lump in her throat that's making her choke, and her heart's beating too hard against her chest it feels like it's breaking.

Karma bites back a gasp, her hand curling in her hair because, even though she hasn't felt this way before, this burning, choking, irrational yearning is a sensation that she finds all too familiar. She swallows, pressing her face against the counter.

_She's jealous_.

She's jealous of Reagan; of Amy. She's jealous of Reagan and Amy together. And it all suddenly becomes bright and crystal clear and she wants to laugh at herself because she's been scrutinizing her face in the mirror and comparing it to Reagan's – wondering what the hell had done Amy in – for the past ten minutes because she was fucking jealous. Even now after she realizes what she's been doing, Karma's still leaning over the sink, looking at her face closely and wondering if maybe it was the eyes – those seemingly always glowing hazeleyes – that had charmed Amy; or maybe it was the DJ thing, Amy seemed to have a thing for girls with musical talent.

How the hell would she know?

And yet, she's still examining her face, still wondering what had pushed Amy to sleep with Reagan. If Karma is honest with herself, she admits that, sure, with those glowing eyes, that hair, the pouty, utterly kissable lips, that bone structure, that soft, phone-sex-worthy voice, Reagan is easy on the eyes. And if Karma is really honest with herself, she grudgingly admits that, yeah, if she was a guy, she'd do Reagan in a heartbeat too.

But all this thinking and stating the facts doesn't help her, and suddenly, it's getting harder to breathe, and she feels like she's choking, and God her vision's getting really blurry, but she can't seem to stop herself because she's jealous.

And Karma's so scared because if she's jealous of the mere possibility of Amy and Reagan in an intimate relationship – which, she should stop kidding herself about because it's not a possibility it's a fact – than that means that she cares about Amy in the way that she's never admit to anyone; including herself.

She was (is) lying to Liam, hell to everybody (including herself) when she says that it's always going to be Liam because apparently that's not the case.

Karma dries her eyes really quickly before she steps out of the bathroom and inhales deeply. Just as she makes her way back into the living room she bumps into – God – Reagan.

"Are you okay?" Reagan asks her.

Karma nods absently as she looks at Reagan and decides that yes, it had to be the eyes. "I'm fine," she mumbles. "Just jealous."

Reagan blinks, not understanding, and Karma ignores her and sits back next to Liam, but Amy's head snaps up and she stares at her curiously.

Her neck's prickling, and Karma slowly raises her eyes, barely biting back a gasp when she meets icy blues.

Amy's mouth curves into a smile – a smile that speaks of newly acquired knowledge, Karma notices uncomfortably – and she discretely jerks her head in Liam's direction, before mouthing something only she understands.

And Karma blushes as she takes in the hand Liam's trailing up her thigh, replaying the words Amy had said to her in her head.

"_I am, too._"


End file.
